It's Ok
by Blarghination
Summary: Gumball experiments with make up. (Trans Gumball stuff I wrote. Might continue if I don't get too much hate.)


Gumball steps out of the shower, steam still opaque in the room. He takes a towel and wraps it around his body.

As he turns around he catches a quick glimpse of himself in the mirror. He turns back, to inspect himself. Physical appearance is of capital importance in this world where there is nothing more than what meets the eye. He comes closer, leading a thorough inquiry on the lines of his face, and the curves of his body. There he realizes that what he sees in the reflection is not a boy. He does not understand what he sees, but he knows it is not a boy.

He simply cannot see himself in the future as a man, leading a life that people around him would have expected him to live. He is unable to see that, unable to see the future as a man.

He believes he still has years before him to learn and to experiment. He is in one way right, however an overwhelming sense of lack of time weighs upon him.

He brings the towel up, just under his armpits, as he has seen his mother wear it, when she burst in her room in sheer hysteria on the mornings he was late for school.

He feels more comfortable this way. He does not why, it just seems that it was the right thing to start with at this moment. Something is missing though.

An idea strikes him. He opens the mirror, saying farewell to his reflection for a short time. He takes out a soft pink lipstick, a delicate lilac eyeshadow and some mascara. These all belong to his mother but he doubts that she would notice a change in the volume of her cosmetics. She barely has time to use them anyway.

He first applies the eyeshadow. It is not the easiest task he has been faced with, applying the make up on one eye whilst keeping the other open and paying attention to the quantity used on the face.

When he feels he is done, he opens both his eyes. It seems like he has taken a punch in the face whilst being vomited on by a fairy.

Even though his first attempt disappoints him, he does not let it stop him from finishing what he had started.

He shades the other eye, with a little more dexterity due to the skill newly learnt.

He then decides to use the mascara, even though he is not sure of its utility. Was it for the eyebrows? The hair in his nose? Perhaps his eyelashes?

Gumball is tempted to go with one of the two first options, because I mean, who in the world would brush their eyelashes? But as he ponders upon it he realizes that it actually makes perfect sense. One would definitely want to value their eyes using a darker color to accentuate their contours.

He attempts putting some on his own eyelashes without great success. He somehow always manages to get it on his eyebrows.

After this second failure, Gumball passes to what he thinks he knows the best: the lipstick. He has often seen Granny Jojo put some before her infamous and feared kisses.

He purses his lips and makes a rotating movement. He believes it was a success this time. Unfortunately, in his desire to do well, he has done in excess and he looks like a sad clown.

However, he is oddly satisfied with the result. He gazes in the mirror and there he sees a young girl, discovering the wonders of a mask that society imposes her to wear in order to please the eye. This girl feels beautiful, she feels like a new person. This mask will become a prison for her in the future, but today, it has opened her eyes.

A knock on the door pulls her out of her trance.

"Dude, could you hurry up please? I really need to use the bathroom!" a shrill voice pleads.

She quickly splashes water on her face, hastily scrubbing off the make up.

"Coming, wait a sec!"

She grabs her clothes and rushed out the door.

Her brother looks at her puzzled.

"Why do you look like a sad fairy clown cried on your face?"

"I, uh," she fumbles with her words. Shame washes upon her and she simply cannot reveal her secret. "I...was testing out make up for my Halloween costume!"

"What exactly are you going to be?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm going to be a uh...contemporary painting!"

She grabs a stylized portrait on the wall.

"See?" she says, comparing her face to the painting.

Darwin is not completely convinced, but shrugs it off.

Gumball runs to her mother's room, and closes the door behind her. She throws her clothes on the floor and started searching for a more convenient apparel. Her mother is sure to have those.

She opens the closet, but only finds the same outfit in four examples. Did her mother never change? She probably does not have any time to waste on matching her clothes.

In addition, during earlier discoveries of her body, she had tried on this said outfit and it had been too large.

The cat rummages through the closet. She is about to give up when she catches in the corner of her eye a box. It is a simple cardboard box, appearing worn out by the time. In the usual cliché she blows off dust from the object. The box is not labeled. Maybe the young girl will find what she seems in it.

She opens the box and finds a folded outfit. She carefully takes out each piece of it.

First there is an old jean jacket, as if it has been met with all the weathers this world had to offer. Then, a once white polo. Its color has faded to a cream color that reminds her of mayonnaise. Next, she takes out a pair of discolored black leggings and a violet skirt.

The garb laid out before her also seems to be the right size.

She lets loose of her towel and starts getting dressed, making sure she does not smudge her make up putting the polo.

She stares into the mirror. She is so beautiful. The skirt is a bit outstretched and hangs slightly loose on her hips. The jacket's sleeves covers her paws, but she feels light and at ease in this apparatus.

She twirls and sways in the room in delightful elegance. She is a ballerina on a scene made of crystal, and she sweeps about like a flower pulled into a waltz by a warm summer breeze. She stops on her tip toes, out of breath.

She addresses a graceful curtsy to her reflection and congratulates herself for this admirable performance.

She hears someone applaud, and is sure it is only a figment of her imagination, but the applause seems so authentic. She turns around, and in the doorway, she sees her brother clapping for her, in awe.

"Darwin!"

He snaps out of his trance.

"How long have you been here? What have you seen?"

Darwin stays silent.

"This is bad," she whispers, her eyes filling with tears. "I'm so weird you must be disgusted now."

Darwin approaches and sets a hand on her shoulder.

"It's ok. It's ok to feel like that. We support you."

He pulls her into a hug, silencing her crying. Her body jolts at each sob.

"We kinda expected it."

"Darwin, Do you think Mom and Dad will still love me?"

"Of course they would. You know them well enough."

"What about Penny?"

"She will too. You loved her when she was a gross monster weirdo, I don't see why she shouldn't love you because you're a pretty girl."

"But what about the others? They'll be so grossed out."

"No they won't, they're your friends. And if they don't understand you, and disrespect you, forgive my potty mouth but they can go scroodle doodle themselves."

Gumball wipes her tears. The mascara is streaming down her face and her lipstick is even worse than before.

"Yeah... They can go scroodle doodle themselves!" she cries out.


End file.
